1:28 my digital clock was blinking and the red numbers changing. I can’t sleep, I have to find out now! Will I make the job? It would be so great if I did! I shouldn’t have to worry about whether I made it or not. Because I know I’ll make it! There’s no room for pessimism. A smile curved on my face. Life’s great. My stomach started cringing. I can’t tell you how much I dislike nostalgia. Let’s see, pessimism? Smile? Life? Oh, it was life. There was another situation like this before. When I was a senior in high school, age 17. It’s all so vivid. The car is cold. My throat, it freezes when I inhale deeply. I didn’t pay much attention to this, my only concern was whether I made it into the news paper club or not. I have to know now. I unconsciously dug my thumbnail into my index finger, it started bleeding, the pain was sharp but, I hadn’t paid attention. I looked at my index finger. Every second was stretched. I finally reached the school and headed towards the door. I opened the door and the aroma of hazel nut coffee entered the room. It was a nice smell. The warm air generated from the heater escaped the room and became welcomed by the autumn air. Did I make it? I waved to everyone when the club leader came into the room. “How is it Brandon? Did I make it?” I grabbed my scarf and clung onto it with much force. “Well, I don’t know how to say this.” Gosh, my heart sank, I remember that dramatic three second pause. “Holly you made it.” I jumped up with much joy. Every day, it was something of a regular routine. Months passed and there came a day when our class was celebrating after taking a benchmark. “In God we trust. Amen to that.” The class raised their cups in the air, but I didn’t. Some peers asked me “What’s wrong?” “Or it’s nothing, I’m atheist.” To which I had responded. “Oh, I see.” Dissatisfaction was visible on their face. I carried on through the rest of the day. All because of those two, my stomach was empty, a dole expression was switched, and some anger was portrayed in my eyes. The day after, I thought I had seen some unwelcoming eyes in the hall. I never paid attention to this, but the stares weren’t so serious until some days after. As school ended I entered the newspaper club room, Brandon, Nick, Jessica, Tom, they were all in some dismay. Jessica’s elbow was resting on the table while her hand covered her right eye, her fingers poking out from her hair. “Some of the teachers are against you making newspapers, and some of the people at school are threatening to boycott the newspaper.” She said. “Why?” “Because they disagree with your choice of religion, or rather lack of religion.” I felt so empty. “What will you do?” I was holding my calm while shaking a little. “Unsure, but we can get through..” “You’re all so kind. I smiled, my eyes looking down.” I went home after that, it was another long night. I can’t drag down the others. I’ll accept the expulsion from the club by the teachers. Seems like a fine idea. The night passed, and bullying started its toll. It only started with shoves. When the last bell rang and ended school, I announced that I would quit the club. Everyone opposed, but I walked out after. “Brandon ran after me, it’s okay, we’ll manage somehow.” I kept walking. It hurts. Why am I getting chills? Weeks were flying through, it was no longer shoves that I received, but now graffiti notes directed to me, I’ve been “bumped” a lot. The teachers seemed to notice, every week they ask me “Are you okay?” I tell them every time. “Yeah.” There was one incident as I walked out of the classroom my teacher spoke to another “Such a talented soul, wasted on an atheist.” I bore with it all. This wasn’t really serious until one teacher couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried to make everyone stop. I noticed that my sentences were reduced to just a single word. I don’t remember how, but this got involved with the media. They attempted to interview me many times. “They threatened to boycott the school newspaper.” Two days after that, I started staying home. My parents were very worried, they did many things, but I was depressed, the happiness eluded my embrace. After three days of staying home, I went back to school. How dull, so dull. How empty, so empty. My parents won’t be home this afternoon, they are both working. I walked home and as I was nearing, a man came up to me and threatened to shoot me. “When you die, will you go to Heaven? Wait, for you there is no God. Who will save you now?” I ran to my house and locked everything. I hid in my room. I called the police and reported the man, “Brown hair, green striped shirt, blue eyes, about 6”0, black converse.” I called my parents, and my mother rushed straight home. I cried in my room. The media came in again. They were pushed out by my parents. We tried to get a gun license, but they denied us every time. Eventually the police found the man. A court case was filed. When the lawyer called me up to the stand, I was just so devastated. I pleaded the fifth. The defendant’s lawyer demanded that I answer the questions. I was shaking so much. “Answer them.” The judge said. I don’t think I’m imagining it. Are they staring at me with malicious intent? I miss the others. I let go of all the stiffness I subconsciously built. It’s 3:47, how does thinking make time fly so fast? I’m not going to be able to sleep a wink! How annoying, now I’ll never get this job! I scolded myself some more. I looked at the clock again. 4:02, maybe I should sleep now…
8:Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
Sarah Bishop
Setting: As told in the blurb, the main setting is a cave that Sarah inhabits alone[Chapter 22 page 115]. Though it would take half the book to actually get to the main setting. The fact that she lives in a cave, would only generate 2 problems: She's alone, and struggles [somewhat] to survive [Chapter 22/Page 115 and forward]; and that she was accused of witchcraft for so [Chapter 37/page 203 is where it starts]
Historical Importance: Sarah Bishop was based on a true story. So the revolutionary war would greatly effect the story. Because her father was a loyalist, the patriots tarred him with feathers [Page 42/43]. Because her brother was in war, he got held prisoner and died from unhealthy diets given to him on the boat [Stated in page 75]. Due to Radicals setting buildings on fire, a knife dropped and Sarah picked it up without second though [Knife picked up page 65], and got blamed. Captain Cunningham [Who got tried after the war for forgery, got sent to the gallows. (Page VII, not in storyline)] had also kept Sarah Prisoner, however she escaped.
1:28 my digital clock was blinking and the red numbers changing. I can’t sleep, I have to find out now! Will I make the job? It would be so great if I did! I shouldn’t have to worry about whether I made it or not. Because I know I’ll make it! There’s no room for pessimism. A smile curved on my face. Life’s great. My stomach started cringing. I can’t tell you how much I dislike nostalgia. Let’s see, pessimism? Smile? Life? Oh, it was life. There was another situation like this before. When I was a senior in high school, age 17. It’s all so vivid.The car is cold. My throat, it freezes when I inhale deeply. I didn’t pay much attention to this, my only concern was whether I made it into the news paper club or not. I have to know now. I unconsciously dug my thumbnail into my index finger, it started bleeding, the pain was sharp but, I hadn’t paid attention. I looked at my index finger. Every second was stretched. I finally reached the school and headed towards the door.
I opened the door and the aroma of hazel nut coffee entered the room. It was a nice smell. The warm air generated from the heater escaped the room and became welcomed by the autumn air. Did I make it? I waved to everyone when the club leader came into the room. “How is it Brandon? Did I make it?” I grabbed my scarf and clung onto it with much force. “Well, I don’t know how to say this.” Gosh, my heart sank, I remember that dramatic three second pause. “Holly you made it.” I jumped up with much joy. Every day, it was something of a regular routine. Months passed and there came a day when our class was celebrating after taking a benchmark. “In God we trust. Amen to that.” The class raised their cups in the air, but I didn’t. Some peers asked me “What’s wrong?” “Or it’s nothing, I’m atheist.” To which I had responded. “Oh, I see.” Dissatisfaction was visible on their face. I carried on through the rest of the day. All because of those two, my stomach was empty, a dole expression was switched, and some anger was portrayed in my eyes.
The day after, I thought I had seen some unwelcoming eyes in the hall. I never paid attention to this, but the stares weren’t so serious until some days after. As school ended I entered the newspaper club room, Brandon, Nick, Jessica, Tom, they were all in some dismay. Jessica’s elbow was resting on the table while her hand covered her right eye, her fingers poking out from her hair. “Some of the teachers are against you making newspapers, and some of the people at school are threatening to boycott the newspaper.” She said. “Why?” “Because they disagree with your choice of religion, or rather lack of religion.” I felt so empty. “What will you do?” I was holding my calm while shaking a little. “Unsure, but we can get through..” “You’re all so kind. I smiled, my eyes looking down.” I went home after that, it was another long night. I can’t drag down the others. I’ll accept the expulsion from the club by the teachers. Seems like a fine idea.
The night passed, and bullying started its toll. It only started with shoves. When the last bell rang and ended school, I announced that I would quit the club. Everyone opposed, but I walked out after. “Brandon ran after me, it’s okay, we’ll manage somehow.” I kept walking. It hurts. Why am I getting chills? Weeks were flying through, it was no longer shoves that I received, but now graffiti notes directed to me, I’ve been “bumped” a lot. The teachers seemed to notice, every week they ask me “Are you okay?” I tell them every time. “Yeah.” There was one incident as I walked out of the classroom my teacher spoke to another “Such a talented soul, wasted on an atheist.” I bore with it all. This wasn’t really serious until one teacher couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried to make everyone stop. I noticed that my sentences were reduced to just a single word. I don’t remember how, but this got involved with the media. They attempted to interview me many times. “They threatened to boycott the school newspaper.” Two days after that, I started staying home. My parents were very worried, they did many things, but I was depressed, the happiness eluded my embrace. After three days of staying home, I went back to school. How dull, so dull. How empty, so empty. My parents won’t be home this afternoon, they are both working. I walked home and as I was nearing, a man came up to me and threatened to shoot me. “When you die, will you go to Heaven? Wait, for you there is no God. Who will save you now?” I ran to my house and locked everything. I hid in my room. I called the police and reported the man, “Brown hair, green striped shirt, blue eyes, about 6”0, black converse.” I called my parents, and my mother rushed straight home. I cried in my room. The media came in again. They were pushed out by my parents. We tried to get a gun license, but they denied us every time. Eventually the police found the man. A court case was filed. When the lawyer called me up to the stand, I was just so devastated. I pleaded the fifth. The defendant’s lawyer demanded that I answer the questions. I was shaking so much. “Answer them.” The judge said. I don’t think I’m imagining it. Are they staring at me with malicious intent?
I miss the others. I let go of all the stiffness I subconsciously built. It’s 3:47, how does thinking make time fly so fast? I’m not going to be able to sleep a wink! How annoying, now I’ll never get this job! I scolded myself some more. I looked at the clock again. 4:02, maybe I should sleep now…
Amendment 8: Death Penalty
Death Penalty Controversy
For death penalty
Pro/Con
8:Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
Sarah Bishop
Setting: As told in the blurb, the main setting is a cave that Sarah inhabits alone[Chapter 22 page 115]. Though it would take half the book to actually get to the main setting. The fact that she lives in a cave, would only generate 2 problems: She's alone, and struggles [somewhat] to survive [Chapter 22/Page 115 and forward]; and that she was accused of witchcraft for so [Chapter 37/page 203 is where it starts]
Historical Importance: Sarah Bishop was based on a true story. So the revolutionary war would greatly effect the story. Because her father was a loyalist, the patriots tarred him with feathers [Page 42/43]. Because her brother was in war, he got held prisoner and died from unhealthy diets given to him on the boat [Stated in page 75]. Due to Radicals setting buildings on fire, a knife dropped and Sarah picked it up without second though [Knife picked up page 65], and got blamed. Captain Cunningham [Who got tried after the war for forgery, got sent to the gallows. (Page VII, not in storyline)] had also kept Sarah Prisoner, however she escaped.